On the other side
by FaeriesTea
Summary: A slightly different tale about Lara Jean in an entirely new dimension where she makes different choices and unexpectedly new paths form for her
1. Chapter 1

It started buzzing. It´s sound muffled by the thick white pillow. I groan and reach over out of habit to the nightstand. As my fingers tap to find the vibrating, cool surface, I remember I put my phone under the couch cushion. Ugh. I would actually have to stand up. Mentally I count to ten, rubbing my hands together and then my thighs. On ten my blanket flies over my side and I straighten one leg and then the other. I snatch my phone from my couch and press the little black cross in the far right corner. The buzzing immediately stops and my screen blares. 7:00 in bold white letters look back at me. Why had I agreed to wake up this early on a Saturday morning? A message comes through almost immediately.

_ON MY WAY. Are u awake? Do you guys have anything to eat?_

Chris. Sighing I let myself fall backwards onto the bed again. I turn and grab the corner of the blanket. Gripping it tightly I roll onto my back and then to the other side. Satisfied with my snugly burrito wrap, I allow myself a few moments of comfort, soaking up the warmth of the still warm inviting bed.

_Helluuuu? I´m only 5 min away_

My lids getting heavy again, suddenly retract. Chris. Road trip. Right. I run to my closet and snatch the outfit I laid down carefully the night before. It´s a lavender off the shoulder sweater with a white cream denim skirt that had tiny pearl buttons. Due to the lack of time I only brushed through my hair once and put some matching white pins in there, to keep it falling in my face


	2. Chapter 2

It smells like fall in Chris´s car. I had hastily put some apple cinnamon cookies into a zip log bag, when a quite knock sounded on the door, followed by a soft ping of my phone.

_I´M HERE_

Chris rummages to the back of the bag, to find the cookie with the most defining cinnamon swirl. She pops it into her mouth and grins. I smile back, but nervousness bubbles in my stomach. I suddenly feel under-prepared for the trip. "Chris.", I tug at her sleeve. "We need to go back! I forgot my phone charger." "What? No, we can´t do that! Listen, you need to relax. Think of this as an adventure. People went on adventures in the old times and they did not rely on technology." With that she puts on her sunglasses, even though it´s barely sunny today. I will myself to relax, but I feel myself tensing up again and again, so I busy myself picking a song to play.

_ Your lipstick stains on the front lobe of my left side brains. I knew I wouldn't forget you and so I went and let you blow my mind. _

My head starts spinning a bit. Reality coming in and out of focus again. I´m really going to UNC – to visit. Only. Yet my mind procures all sorts of visions of my room half empty, devoid of spirit and Kitty and Dad growing older. I imagine coming home for the holidays and everything feeling so estranged and different, just like Margot must have felt, when she returned home for the first time she was away. I don´t think I can take this and I´m about to tell Chris as much, when I see a sign. A little blue river, the color mostly chipped, is depicted. In Bold Letters it reads "River View Cemetery".

Sharply, I draw a deep breath in. I rarely cross state border lines, so we never drive this way ever, really. The last time I saw this sign, it was blurred by a film of unshed tears.

We have now driven on, but my eyes drift back down the road, to the sign, sitting crookedly on the uneven road. At the next cross light, I move my hand to turn down the volume of the music and tug at Chris´s sleeve again. "Turn around." She dramatically waves her hands in circles. "Lara Jean, trust me it will be fine. There is literally nothing I can think of that..." "No, I want to go back to River View Cemetery. I promise we will continue our trip and I will not ask you to stop again." My hands are folded on my lap and I bite m lower lip. I can´t really see Chris´s eyes through the tinted. glasses, but her arms seem frozen in their wide gestures, she uses to get a point across. "OK, sure." Her hands are on the steering wheel again, but this time she yanks it all the way round. Her foot presses down harder on the gas pedal and simultaneously my heart starts exhilarating. Maybe this is what I need. A moment to think, of remembrance, of being as close as I can get to my mother.


End file.
